Insomnia
by WraithTemplar
Summary: Ratchet hasn't been able to sleep properly since Nefarious was locked away. Thankfully, Dimitri is willing to help out. Contains spoilers for Lasting Scars, so I suggest reading that story first.


**Warning: the following story contains major spoilers for _Lasting Scars_. If you haven't read that story, I highly suggest you go back and take a look at that story before reading this one. You have been warned. **

**Anyways, sit back, relax, and enjoy the one-shot! :)**

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The ticking of the clock echoed in the Markazian's ears.

Dimitri Carlisle let out an annoyed sigh, turning onto his side once more in the hope that his muscles would eventually relax. _And here I was thinking the Hall of Heroes would be a great option for sleep._ Working with the Galactic Rangers had its setbacks, and lack of proper sleep was one of them. Dimitri easily recognized this feeling. He'd spent many years as a police detective before joining with the Rangers. When it came to solving some of the more nausea-inducing murder cases he'd seen, he'd relied on sleepless nights and caffeine more than he'd relied on the actual clues.

And then there were the more recent events.

The chaos caused by Dr. Nefarious and Marcus Westbrook had given every single Ranger plenty to worry about. Nefarious was currently locked up in Aleero City Penitentiary. Dimitri couldn't help but inwardly smirk as he recalled giving the orders to seal Nefarious away in Maximum Security. Still, the thought of that cyborg bugged the Ranger. Secure didn't exactly mean safe; Nefarious had already broken out once before, and that was before he became a cybernetic monstrosity. Planets had been destroyed and people had been killed at the hands of the mad scientist.

As for Marcus, Dimitri felt even more afraid, though he would never admit it. The killer's narrow escape from the hand of the law made him more dangerous than ever. Marcus' vendetta toward the Rangers, particularly toward Ratchet, had proved to be a brutal one. Ratchet had spent a good couple weeks in the hospital as a result of Marcus' actions. The lombax's adoptive father was dead and buried, an innocent victim of Westbrook's reign of terror. Even Dimitri's predecessor, Franklin DeMarco, couldn't escape the bastard.

Dimitri rolled onto his back again. _God, why won't that stupid clock just shut up?!_ The temperature of the bed certainly didn't help, as the Ranger found himself sweating despite having stripped down to his underwear. The Markazian rubbed his eyes wearily, and peeled the sheets back. _Maybe some water or something might calm me down._ He shuffled out of bed, quickly reaching for his discarded tank top and shorts and slipping into them. Dimitri took a deep breath, allowing the fresh air to clear his thoughts, before making the short trip to the restroom.

He was about halfway there when his ears picked up the whimpers.

Immediately, Dimitri froze, eyes and ears vigilantly working together to find the noise's source. _Dammit. Knew I should've kept a combustor in my room._ The weapon currently sat in his locker in the training room downstairs, since he'd thought the Hall of Heroes had been thoroughly secured.

_Those whimpers…that sounds a lot like…oh no. The rookie._

It was no surprise that Ratchet's mental health had taken a turn for the worse with the recent events. The damage that Nefarious and Westbrook did was irreversible. Ratchet would always have a scar trailing along his abdomen, a reminder of that time he had almost died back on Corethra V. Dimitri, however, knew the lombax would've taken a simple scar and a broken arm over the mental damage any day.

The Markazian hurried quietly to the lombax's quarters. _Another nightmare, I'm guessing? Why did it have to be tonight?_ Normally, Clank bunked with Ratchet, keeping watch in case any nightmares came to haunt the lombax. Tonight, however, Elaris had been stuck finishing up some late projects, and Clank had volunteered to help her out. This, unfortunately, left Ratchet with no one to wake him from whatever bad dream he was having.

Dimitri opened the door to Ratchet's quarters, eyes anxiously taking in the sight before him. Ratchet lay sprawled out on the bed, the bedsheets twisted around his stomach and legs as he tossed and turned. The lombax's eyes were squeezed shut, almost as if opening them would spell certain death. His breath came out in sharp gasps, echoing the whimpers Dimitri had heard earlier.

"Ratchet!" Dimitri yelled, rushing to his fellow Ranger's bedside. He grabbed ahold of the lombax's shoulders in a tedious attempt to halt his friend's shaking limbs. "Ratchet, it's me! It's Dimitri! Wake up!"

If Ratchet had heard Carlisle's words, he certainly showed no sign of it, instead thrashing about even more. His whimpers turned to pained gasps and cries. Given how warm Ratchet felt underneath Dimitri's hands, the Markazian could tell the lombax was sweating through the bedsheets. If Dimitri had to guess, the nightmare was only escalating.

"Ratchet!" Dimitri screamed, continuing his attempts to shake his friend awake. "C'mon, rookie. It's not real! Wake up!"

The lombax's eyes snapped open, landing on Dimitri almost immediately. The detective briefly wondered why Ratchet's emerald eyes showed no recognition.

Next thing he knew, the Markazian found himself shoved off the bed. His head roughly collided with the carpet, and his ears rang with the impact. _Goddamn it, Ratchet! Snap out of it!_ As his vision came back into focus, Dimitri quickly realized why Ratchet failed to recognize him. Where the lombax's eyes normally showed compassion and the lombax's usual stubbornness, they now showed only anger. Rage.

_And here I thought Marcus looked scary when he was pissed._

"Stop! Stop! Ratchet, it's me," the detective gasped, shielding his face with his arms.

The statement was thankfully enough to give the detective room to breathe, and more than enough to snap Ratchet out of the terror he was in. "Dimitri?" Ratchet hoarsely whispered. "What are you—"

"It's okay," the detective reassured, kneeling in front of his friend. "It's okay. It's me. You were having a nightmare."

The lombax's eyes darted around the room, taking in the Galactic Ranger collectables and the unkempt bed sheets. "Where's Clank?" he hastily asked.

"Relax, rookie," Dimitri replied, placing his hand on the lombax's shoulder. "Clank's just meeting with Elaris. He's—"

Ratchet reacted quicker than his fellow Ranger could process, leaping to his feet and attempting to make a beeline for the door. He would've easily escaped had Dimitri not tightened his grip on his friend's shoulder.

"No, no, no. Clank!" Ratchet yelped, fighting to break free of the detective's iron grip. "I have to save him! I have to!"

Dimitri reacted quickly, scooping Ratchet into his arms and climbing into bed. The lombax's trembling filled the ambassador with concern. He'd experienced enough panic attacks in his lifetime to recognize the symptoms, and it pained his heart to spot those same symptoms in his friend. After all, Nefarious had kidnapped and nearly killed Clank less than a couple months back. Ratchet and the warbot had promised to stick by each other's sides ever since that fateful night.

The second Ratchet's body touched the soft mattress, his face contorted as if he had touched a sheet of ice. "No, please!" the lombax pitifully begged, struggling in the Markazian's grasp. "Let me go!"

"Ratchet, what's wrong?"

The lombax's whimpers and cries practically answered Dimitri's question for him. _Guess the poor rookie doesn't want another nightmare. Can't say I blame him._ Nonetheless, the detective persisted in keeping Ratchet still, wrapping his arms and legs around the lombax and holding him close. "Hey! Hey, Ratchet, it's okay. You're safe."

"No!" the terrified lombax stammered, as he continued to struggle. "Can't sleep. Need to help Clank."

"I know, buddy," Dimitri reassured his friend, stroking the hero's fur with one hand while pulling up the blankets with the other. "I know you're scared, but you need to sleep. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise." With that, the Markazian wrapped the blankets tighter around himself and Ratchet, shushing his friend's cries as he secured the lombax within the blanket cocoon.

"Dimitri…" Ratchet stuttered, his muscles beginning to involuntarily slow down. "Please…help…"

"Shh. Just relax, Ratchet. I'm right here."

Even within the snug confines of the sheets, Ratchet's body persisted in its trembling. The lombax's eyes, unfocused as they were, still held traces of fear as they began to close. Dimitri could easily tell from the slowing of Ratchet's heart that his friend was falling asleep again. _Guess the poor guy's been overexerting himself at night._ The Markazian continued to stroke Ratchet's fur and shush his cries until he could no longer feel the lombax's racing heartbeat. The eventual silence told Dimitri that the worst had passed. Ratchet was safe in the arms of a deep sleep once more.

The Ranger ambassador was now back at square one, lying in bed and unable to sleep himself. Dimitri tried his best to stay calm as Ratchet snuggled further into his arms. _Damn you, Nefarious. Damn you, Westbrook. Damn you both for putting Ratchet through this._ Carlisle took a deep breath, hoping to distract his mind from the desire to tear Nefarious and Marcus apart until there was nothing left. It was difficult to resist giving in to his anger these days, especially with all that had happened in the past few months.

A heavy yawn abruptly pulled the Markazian out of his thoughts. With a content sigh, he burrowed himself further into the blankets, careful so as not to wake Ratchet up. He had no idea how he could help Ratchet overcome all of the mental trauma that the Rangers' enemies had rained down on him. For now, though, the detective figured the best he could do was pick up the pieces.

"Dimitri…"

The Markazian's ears slowly perked up at Ratchet's whisper. "Yeah, kid?"

"Thanks…" the lombax slurred out, his eyes barely open. "Thanks for helping me…"

"No problem, Ratchet," Dimitri murmured, petting the fur on his fellow Ranger's head. "Go back to sleep, okay?"

Ratchet didn't fight the wave of exhaustion this time, letting out a relieved sigh. The lombax quickly fell back into sleep's warm embrace, with the detective watching over him not far behind.

* * *

**Surprise! I'm not dead, in case anyone's wondering. I'm just busy. Super, super busy.**

**There were a couple of reasons I wanted to write this short piece: **

**1\. I haven't had that much practice with writing whump, so I guess you could call this an experiment.**

**2\. I really wanted to develop Dimitri's character a tiny bit more, since I feel he took a back seat to the development of other characters, like Ratchet and Marcus.**

**Anyways, thanks for the support, and have a great day! :)**


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